Image for the poem The plum pit in decantered wine

The plum pit in decantered wine

The soot on the mantle,    
 all along your heavy gothic lies,    
you mixed thick and decantered, in    
glass of Maias' lovely black eyes.    
We made the arrangements,    
and set them brotherly between the King    
and a spaniel's smile. under curtain lace    
and the last of Victoria's light she brings.    
They paid the mill-wright lawfully, careful    
to lay black feather of pig iron and lead.    
A sunken blackbird, dead in cursing, wrought    
 and melting ore,  
where flees the black angel from his bed.    
Written by nomoth
Published | Edited 15th Jan 2021
Author's Note
For Classic Corner Championship: Male Division

inspired by Edna St. Vincent Millay's
Dirge Without Music

The poem is about my first experience of death at around 8-9 years old of my great uncle who died very old, and was militantly Victorian in all ways and design. Everything bore a great weight around him and my memories of discovering his body still remain dreamily vivid.

my pic and collage
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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